


Villains

by entanglednow



Category: Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, Heroes - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-12
Updated: 2008-08-12
Packaged: 2017-10-23 07:13:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sex with superheroes does lose its charm after a while. Once you've been shocked, frozen or accidentally burned a time or two, there's really little to make a fuss over."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Villains

  
Adam Monroe isn't what Billy was expecting.

Billy expected fiendish, he expected ruthless, he expected manipulative. This, after all, was the man who was briefly intent on wiping out the entire human race.

He doesn't expect charming. He doesn't expect to be completely disarmed, from the moment he meets him, by a smile that's halfway to mischievous, and pointed straight at him. He certainly doesn't expect Adam to end up in his basement, poking through his inventions with honest curiosity.

Adam does honest curiosity very well.

"It takes a certain perseverance to make villainy work, perseverance and _suffering_." Adam looks sideways at him, expression curious but pointed. "I think you have more of that than anyone at that table. But you have something more important as well, you have _brains_."

Adam leaves the machinery he'd been carefully dismantling on the shelf and returns to where Billy is standing.

"You're still working on your convictions though. But you have the time, if you want it, if you really want it?" Adam tips his head to the side, something that isn't quite a smile on his face. "Do you want it, Dr Horrible?"

It takes Billy a second to realise the question's been asked of him, and he's a breath away from answering when Adam shakes his head.

"No, that's not right."

Adam's hand hovers on the edge of his vision, fingers trailing across one shining rim of his goggles, then Adam makes a noise in the back of his throat.

"This is a mask," Adam says carefully. "But that's nothing to be ashamed of. I understand the need for a disguise more than most." Adam's fingers drift through Billy's hair, then finally catch on the elastic of his goggles, and very slowly slide them off the back of his head. "And I understand what it's like to feel like you're nothing underneath."

Adam's stepped close without him realising it, close enough that they're eye to eye, and almost touching. Adam's clearly not uncomfortable this far into his personal space, and Billy forces himself not to flinch.

"I know that you feel like you've sacrificed everything else, so why shouldn't the world burn too?" The words are soft but there's an undertone to Adam's voice that's hard as steel.

Billy stops breathing, because it feels like he's been punched in the stomach.

"Do you want it, Billy?" Adam asks, in a much softer voice. Which is so much more complicated, and Adam has an intensity about him, which makes it feel like nothing he says will be good enough.

He's not ready, he's not prepared when Adam pushes his fingers into his hair, and kisses him. It's such a smooth movement, the way a smile becomes a press of mouth, and then a harder press, pulling him into the kiss without any effort at all. Billy thinks maybe he made a mess of that brief, unexpected battle. There's nothing awkward about the way Adam kisses, nothing tentative, he wants it and he takes it, and Billy is left surprised, one step behind but willing, _more_ than willing. Though he's sure he's being horrendously awkward about the whole thing. But the inside of Adam's mouth is slick and wet, and it draws him in  effortlessly.

He doesn't know what this is, or why, or - Adam's fingers are already inside his coat, fingers skating across his skin, in a way that breaks Billy's questions into pieces.

"Tell me you want this," Adam breathes against the edge of his mouth, the words linger there, while Adam coaxes him open again, one brief push that leaves Billy with his mouth half open, and Adam breathing into it. "Because I'd hate to presume."

Material is already sliding over the curve of his shoulder, and down his back. Billy isn't quite sure how he's supposed to say no at this point, how he's supposed to refuse. But more importantly how he's supposed to say 'yes,' how he's supposed to say 'please' without sounding utterly foolish. Because he's prepared for speeches about when force is necessary, and how to defeat his nemesis, but he hasn't studied this. He doesn't know anything about this, and his heart is in his throat, jumping and thudding through his skin while he lets Adam kiss him. Let's him push at the hard rubber of his boots, and tip his head by digging a hand in his hair, he lets him do anything, everything.

Because Billy wants this, this unexpected thing that he still doesn't know why or how he's getting. It occurs to him that the quick aggressive way Adam is kissing him, the drag of red cloth through pale fingers, it occurs to him that Adam wants this too. That maybe he even came here for this.

Because he is the master of manipulation. Adam won when he wasn't looking and Billy knows he's underestimated him, to a frightening degree. But he doesn't care.

Air hits his skin and Adam's hands are sliding down his bare arms, fingers circling his wrists, and easing him back into the give of the couch, and Adam follows, all expensive fabric and hard kisses, limbs long but sharp and strong, skin warm, skin that Billy knows heals almost as soon as it breaks.

The cushions are scratchy against his bare back, but Adam is slowly sliding his own jacket and shirt off, and dropping them over the edge, hands on the wet leather of his belt, dragging it free in two movements, before he's pressing into Billy again, chest a narrow weight against his own. And Billy knows he can dig his fingernails in as hard as he likes, harder and Adam won't protest, knows he's famous for not protesting. But Billy doesn't quite have the courage to try, so instead he just holds him there, holds him there and kisses back as best as he can, through a pulse that's too fast, and an ache that's too hard, pressed up into Adam's thigh.

But his own insecurity won't let him accept this, won't let him believe that this is exactly what it is. Because Adam has been around superheroes, real superheroes, and Billy, for all his grand plans, doesn't have any superpowers. He doesn't have anything to give.

"I don't -" he starts, and Adam pauses an inch from his mouth to let him speak. "I don't have any powers."

Adam's mouth tilts up at the side, he relaxes into Billy's chest, hands moving in long strokes down his sides. Then he moves down, breath a trail across Billy's chest, teeth pausing to catch the skin around a nipple and then retreating further, to the curve of a ribcage and the line of his stomach.

"Sex with superheroes does lose its charm after a while. Once you've been shocked, frozen or accidentally burned a time or two, there's really little to make a fuss over."

Adam pauses and tilts his head up.

"The flying was fun though." He laughs and digs his teeth into Billy's abdomen, makes the skin wet, and Billy has to drag a breath when he uses tongue and teeth to raise red marks between stomach and hips. While his fingers slide under the waistband of Billy's pants, dragging them over his hips and down, and there's nothing, nothing quite like the tangled mixture of fear and arousal that slides through him when he's left naked under a true criminal mastermind.

The realisation tugs a noise out of his throat, which drops into something low and soft, when Adam pulls one of his legs over his shoulder, calf sliding across the smooth skin of his back, while his fingertips drag over the bend of his hip.

Which is an interesting sensation.

Oh.

But not as interesting as that. Adam's tongue is doing indecent things to the head of his cock. He's breathing in loud, disjointed snatches, fingers pressed into the couch so they don't end up in Adam's hair, so they don't push him down and - Billy takes a breath, it's like Adam's read his mind because his mouth slides down, takes him all the way in. One long wet stretch of sensation.

He thinks he's talking then, a broken slur of words that he never intends, that will probably come back to haunt him later, thighs shaking and twitching under the flex of Adam's fingers, and he's far too good at this, there's no way, no way Billy can even hope to hold on to anything.

Not while Adam is moving like that, all wet suction and quick push of tongue, and its all new and impossible, and Billy is sure if he had more experience he wouldn't feel like he was shaking apart, that he wouldn't make that noise in his throat every time Adam's slides down.

He doesn't have enough control for this, he doesn't, he can't wait. Billy can't help pushing up, one helpless movement, and Adam's fingers tighten round his thighs, hard enough to hurt, and it's just one more flicker of sensation that breaks him and hollows him out and finally leaves him breathing awkwardly, limbs falling to rest wherever they can find purchase.

Adam's mouth is still moving, in quick shivery little slides that Billy doesn't want to ever stop. Though he slides free with a smile and a laugh, looking impossibly smug and artistically rumpled, where Billy is certain he looks an _absolute wreck_. His fingers eventually uncurl from where they've left pale marks on Billy's skin.

Then Adam's sliding up his body, hands impossibly warm where they glide up the outside of Billy's thighs, and he's almost incapable of moving, utterly pliant when Adam presses down and kisses him, mouth wet and loose and he tastes utterly scandalous in a way that makes Billy's fingers catch his waist, and when that doesn't seem enough, his neck, nails in Adam's short hair. And he tips them sideways, until they're a tangle on the couch, and Adam is still hard against the curve of his hipbone, a drag and push of flesh that, along with the slide of Adam's hand round the back of his thigh, demands in a way that's completely wordless.

That leaves Billy turning, knees dug into the cushions, until Adam makes an approving noise and slides against his back, fingers already tight on his waist and hips, tipping and tilting and then holding him _right there._

Billy's red coat is underneath him and Adam is persistent in a way that makes him groan into the heavy material, hands drawing down his back in a gesture that's both calming and suggestive. A second later Adam's body is folded over his back, fingers quick and hot and alien inside him. Breath fast in his ear, voice a curl of promise and appreciation, that leaves Billy helpless to do anything but curve under him and slide his legs apart.

Then it's a shock of pressure, hardness, and weight, and Billy is left making noise into his own arm, greedy, conflicted sounds, that break when Adam pushes, when Adam moves...and doesn't stop. He knows how to move, knows how to hold his hips until Billy can feel the ache in his bones, swaying back into Adam's grip, and every slide presses him in deeper. Deep enough that Billy isn't sure if he's still breathing.

Until everything aches and everything is too good, and too much, and wet.

Billy's left against the soft, age-old fabric of the sofa, listening to Adam breathe against the curve of his shoulder.

"I think you could build me something glorious," Adam says quietly.

And Billy is almost certain he's going to do exactly that.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Villains](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3634806) by [RsCreighton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RsCreighton/pseuds/RsCreighton)




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